Amaryllis by Jayne Castle

considered showing him the door right then and there. But she felt a niggling sense of guilt at the thoughtof throwing him out. He had, after all, just spilled his guts to her. That couldn’t have been easy or simple for a man like him. He obviously regretted the indiscretion already.
    It occurred to her that telling Lucas one of her own small secrets might make him feel that the scales had been balanced. Perhaps that would put him in a better mood when he received the bill in a few days. One of Clementine’s many axioms rang in Amaryllis’s head:
A happy client is a repeat client
.
    â€œHis name was Gifford Osterley,” Amaryllis said quietly. “We worked together at the university until I left six months ago. He’s a full professor. Next in line to become head of the Department of Focus Studies.”
    â€œPrism, I take it?”
    â€œOh, yes. Very strong. Practically a full spectrum.”
    â€œNot quite as strong as you, then?”
    A trickle of unease went through Amaryllis. “I
am
a full spectrum, after all.”
    â€œHow could I forget?”
    She cleared her throat. “At any rate, Gifford and I were involved, if you know what I mean.”
    â€œI think I can figure it out.”
    She frowned. “It was serious. We talked about marriage.”
    â€œA nonagency marriage?” Lucas gave her mockingly scandalized look. “You? I don’t believe it.”
    â€œDon’t be ridiculous.” Amaryllis set her teeth. This was what came of trying to be sympathetic and kind to Lucas Trent. He had no ability to appreciate her generosity of spirit. “We would have registered with an agency when the time came, but we both expected that the counselors would have declared us a good match.”
    â€œDo I hear a touch of prism arrogance here?”
    â€œI suppose you could say we were a little arrogant,” Amaryllis admitted grudgingly. “We are both very highly trained prisms, you know. We thought we knew what we were doing.”
    â€œYeah, I saw all your fancy degrees.”
    â€œGifford has even more than I do.”
    â€œHooray for him. So what happened with you and Osterley?”
    â€œI discovered that Gifford had a relationship with an attractive talent who worked as his research assistant.”
    â€œHe was sleeping with her?”
    Amaryllis looked down at her unfinished coff-tea. “Yes.”
    â€œHow did you find out?”
    â€œThe hard way.” Amaryllis swallowed. If there had been a mirror in the kitchen, she knew she would have seen her face go from pink to red. “I blundered into a focus session in one of the labs and discovered Gifford and his research assistant together.”
    â€œFocusing on something other than academically important psychic matters, I take it?”
    Anger, pain, and embarrassment fused within Amaryllis. The image still burned in her mind whenever she recalled that traumatic afternoon. “They were having sex on Gifford’s desk, if you must know.”
    Lucas’s eyes glinted. “His desk, huh?”
    â€œYes.” Amaryllis raised her chin, the better to look down her nose at him. “I would have thought it would have been extremely uncomfortable, but they appeared to enjoy it.”
    â€œI take it you’ve never done it on a desk?”
    The last remnants of Amaryllis’s charitable inclinations dissolved. “I’m glad you find it amusing. I certainly didn’t.”
    Lucas’s expression relaxed. “I’ll give you the same advice you just gave me. Don’t beat yourself up about it. It wasn’t your fault that you fell for the wrong guy.”
    â€œI felt like such a fool,” she whispered.
    â€œWell, at least you weren’t downright stupid about it.” Lucas paused. “Unlike me, you didn’t think you were so smart you could just skip a marriage agency altogether.”
    Amaryllis stared at him. “You mean you